


4. Hula Hoop

by TheMagicWord



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMagicWord/pseuds/TheMagicWord
Summary: Harry's intrigued by Hélène's hula hoop. With sexy results.





	4. Hula Hoop

**Author's Note:**

> Rather than doing NaNoWriMo this year, I decided to write a 500-ish word drabble every day. Various pairings coming up.

“Like this?”  Hélène  said, dropping the hoop over her shoulders so it touched the small of her back and then raising it over her head, her arms stretched in a V. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice low. He kissed the back of her neck. 

“You like it, yeah?” 

“Saw Cirque du Soleil at an impressionable age,” he said into her hair and she laughed. “You can stay like this, yeah? It doesn’t hurt?” 

“No. It doesn’t hurt." 

She could always rest against the window if she needed to, Harry thought, looking past her at the view of Sydney Harbour. He couldn’t believe they’d made it all the way to Australia without doing this. He hadn’t known he’d had that kind of restraint. But then he’d watched one of her hula hooping videos over and over until he was straining in his jeans and he’d just thought, fuck it. 

“Do you want to fuck me?”  Hélène  asked. 

She was already resting her forehead against the glass, Harry noticed, even though he was barely touching her yet, his hand sliding down her sides, curling around her waist. 

“In French,” Harry said. 

Hélène  laughed again. “Tu veux me baiser.” 

Harry groaned. Such a cliche. But still. It totally worked for him. 

“I just want to make you come,” Harry said, hands tugging her sundress up her thighs. “Okay?” 

“D’accord,”  Hélène  said. 

“D’accord,” Harry repeated, his fingers trailing inside her underwear, slipping against her wetness. 

Hélène’s  back arched and Harry looked up at her hands on the hoop, wondered what else they could do with it, if she’d ever been tied to it, ankles and wrists. He groaned at the mental image and  Hélène  shifted back against him, arse pressing against his cock. 

He curled his fingers, one fingertip pushing almost inside her, his thumb brushing against her clit. She whimpered and Harry kissed the side of her neck, her head falling to one side. 

He slide his other hand up inside her dress, groaning as he found one small breast, squeezing it gently before pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

The sound  Hélène  made had him pull his other hand out of her underwear so he could grasp both breasts, smearing her own wetness over her nipple. He wanted to turn her around and lick it off. Lie her down and bury his head between her legs. But that could wait. Now he just wanted to know what she sounded like when she came. 

Bracing one hand against her hip, he slid her underwear down and pushed two fingers inside her, rubbing her clit with the heel of his hand, his thumb brushing over her folds. 

Hélène  squirmed, her body twisting, as she muttered French words Harry didn’t understand, and then clenched hard on his fingers, shuddering as she came. 

“Harry,” she almost whispered. “Tu es bon.” 

It was only then that she let the hoop drop. It fell down over Harry’s back, enclosing them both. 


End file.
